Take This Away, Help Me Escape
by IDreamofParadise
Summary: My take on Klaus's hallucinations brought on by killing the Brotherhood of the Five. One-shot


Italy 1114

Klaus had just finished feeding off of the young beauty he managed to lure away into the woods outside of the village. Her blood managed to fill him with such warmth, the sweet taste lingering on his tongue and scorching through the rest of his body. He had left Rebekah to her misery, too disgusted with her foolish acts of love that had resulted in the treachery of her whole family, the only people on this earth that could ever accept her, no matter how many centuries they lived on together. He traveled through the forest eager to put the whole mess behind him and disappear to anyplace where the Five's influence had not managed to reach. His rage and his quenched thirst fueled his drive through the trees and over their dark shadows that the moon cast across the ground.

That was when it began.

At first, all he bothered to notice were annoying raindrops falling on him. The same moment he registered the smell, however, was the same moment in which he spared a passing glance at his bloody clothes to see fresh spots of red staining the fabric on his arms, and the few that had dotted the backs of his hands trailed lines as he turned them over in examination.

He came to an abrupt stop then, his aggravation overcoming his desire to continue running for the moment. He looked up and spun around to find the source of whatever nuisance dared to plague him to see smears of blood covering the bark of all the surrounding wood. Confusion now added to his irritation, he turned to face forward again to discover the entire Brotherhood of the Five to have appeared before him. They were spread out in such a fashion that they were currently blocking him on all sides, encircling him in a trap with Alexander standing directly in front of him.

"We have come for you, as you came for us," they intoned as one.

Klaus scoffed, scanning each of them in turn. "Come for me? Well, I can imagine that will be a bit difficult for you, seeing as how I drove your own swords through each one of your chests, mangled your pathetic bodies, and strung them up for sport," he responded with a smirk. "You're _dead_," he emphasized, and then decided to add with a taunt, "None of you are at all capable of laying so much as a inked, bony hand on me now. But, if you insist, we'll have a go."

At their silence at his remark, Klaus had the upmost confidence that he could simply blow past their meddlesome, ghostly profiles and continue on his way. He started swiveling his head from one to the other in turn, daring them to accept his challenge. When his eyes finally rested again on the space Alexander occupied, the direction in which he desired to go through, he found that his path had unexpectedly but conveniently already to have become cleared by the sudden disappearance of Alexander from their midst.

As Klaus casually readied to make his move forward, he heard a painful cry from behind him that had him frozen to the spot and, dumbfounded by the possibility and dreading to believe it could be true. This nightmare could not occur again before his very eyes with him powerless to end the pain and suffering, all the while knowing that he himself was to blame for causing it.

"Nik," a childish voice breathed, both a question and a plea within the quivering voice. Klaus turned in horror, his chest constricting, to see his baby brother start to fall to the ground, his tiny hand painted red as it fell from his ravaged chest.

"Henrik, HENRIK!" Klaus roared as he stumbled toward his brother sprawled amongst the leaves. Dropping down beside Henrik, he lifted him up to settle him across his lap. Klaus gently slipped one arm underneath him to prop his head up and grasped his pale face with the other.

As soon as he was able to gain enough breath to speak, Henrik whimpered, "Why did you not save me from this fate, brother? I thought you would always protect me from any harm to befall us."

His words, based upon the innocent trust in his older brother, tore through every fiber of Klaus's being and threatened to rip him apart from the inside. "I'm sorry, Henrik, I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to be hurt, I—" Klaus gasped in anguish.

"But you did hurt him."

Klaus whipped his head to the side and found Rebekah standing over them. "You know that you are to blame for all of our misfortunes."

"No, no, it's not true, I did not—" Klaus shook his head frantically in self-righteous anger, attempting to defend himself while clutching Henrik closer to him, willing him to stay alive.

"Yes, you are," another voice eerily echoed.

Klaus turned once more toward his other side, and there was Elijah looking down over his brothers clasping one another with a pitying look on his face. "You are the cause of our pain and suffering, all because you demand sacrifices in the name of family, those who we are to cherish above all else. See what has become of us, what has become of yourself," he whispered.

"Rebekah, you were the one to betray us all to the Five," Klaus hoarsely rasped. "And it was Father who turned us, Father who murdered our mother—".

"We do not care for you, Niklaus. We never have, and we never will." Klaus snapped his head up to see that Kol and Finn now loomed in front of him, both wearing cruel expressions across their harsh faces.

Shaken to the very core of his being, Klaus needed to get away from them, from the effects their words had on him. His trademark arrogance had already begun to crack under the severity of their glares and his sanity could not bear a moment longer of it all; but as he tried to pull his arms out from underneath Henrik, a strong hand clasped around his own and held him fast.

"You are a monster, Niklaus. You are not capable of earning anyone's love, and you never will be." His mother's eyes bore into his own, their intensity compelling him to accept this horrible truth.

Before he could stumble away or form a reply, Klaus was dealt a harsh blow to his back that sent his crouched form sprawling forward to the ground, his face landing in the cold, wet earth. As he struggled to lift his head again, a booming voice that always stuck dread deep inside his soul sounded from close behind.

"Get up, boy!" His father 's order resounded through the air and caused Klaus to slightly quiver under the force behind it. He shut his eyes briefly, and for the first time since his family had come to pass judgment upon him, he felt that there was truly no escape from their torture. He was crushed under the weight of their hatred for him.

"You are worthless, and worse still, a menace to those you claim to care for! You will never earn trust or acceptance," Mikael spat at him. "You will forever be alone in your misery!"

"NO!" Klaus screamed out, emerging from the dirt with fangs bared and blazing eyes wildly searching to rip his teeth into all of them.

But his shout merely echoed hollowly through the night.

Klaus was all alone in the forest.

26 years, 8 months, and 14 days later

On and on, it continued without end, no matter how often he raged against the hold they had over him.

Whatever the binding force that held them to him threatened to overcome him, but never actually did, to his infuriation and despair. No matter how often he would beat them back after he could no longer bear their accusations, they would appear once again, louder and more insistent than before.

Time and again, he had tried to scour the earth in between their appearances for the white oak dagger or stake, or a witch that had enough power at her disposal to wield a spell that could send him to oblivion and please his tormentors. But it was all to no avail. He was indestructible, and so were his personal demons.

It usually started with the Five. Then they would eventually morph into various members of his family, each of them whispering in his ear, and all the while an undeniable chant that beat against his skull night and day.

_You have always been despised, utterly loathed by everyone._

_Now you are loved by none._

_ And you will forever be alone._

Then one day, miraculously, unbelievably, he was met with silence.

No more jeering voices.

No more haunting apparitions covered in gore.

Everything had ceased, the conversations severed and the blows halted as if he had managed to finally meet his end or they had graced him with it themselves, the death he had so longed for through the endless stretches of time he had in _their_ presence.

He was utterly, truly free of all of them.

Once he was sure that they were all gone from his side for good, he finally was able to gather himself together again. Put on that charismatic smirk and turn on the charm, enter the realm of world society once more.

Klaus was back.

And no one would ever take control over him again.

But of course, the words that had been hurled in his face over the course of all those years were never _truly_ forgotten at all, were they?

He was cursed to have them constantly swirl around in his head, and so they formed a mantra that he learned to accept without fail for the rest of eternity. After all, the truth that lay in them was always proven when he failed over and over in his attempts to find a way to get what he had most desired all along: someone who would simply want to stay by his side, and ease the hollowness left within.


End file.
